One Word Prompt Series: Hide
by kdzl
Summary: The truth about compartamentalizing is that it really isn't a skill at all, its just glorified hiding.


_**AN/One-word Prompt piece. I hope you like it.**_

* * *

_"The minute people fall in love, they become liars."_

_-Harlan Ellison_

* * *

You almost gleefully walk into Aaron Hotchner's office. That is, you would if you were the type of person that had ever known how to walk gleefully. So, you do what you do best, what your mother used to refer to as your family's specialty--compartmentalization.

But really, you know that compartmentalization is just a fancy word for something that you've built your life around.

Hiding.

And when Aaron Hotchner acts as though you have no idea why you're here, you hide the feelings of hurt and betrayal.

You should have expected that somebody lied to you.

Because deep down, everybody's hiding something.

But you just didn't expect this. You didn't expect Aaron Hotchner to be clueless about your appointment to the BAU, and you _damn well_ didn't expect him to tell you no.

Because you've wanted this for a long time.

And damn it, you deserve it.

So you use some of your connections--some of _your_ connections, _not_your parents' connections--to find out when the BAU team is coming back from St Louis.

Because you're not going to let this go without a fight.

And even though you desperately want to hide, you're only going to hide those things that make you look weak.

Because that is what makes you strong.

That is what makes you Emily Prentiss.

"Please tell me that you haven't been there for the last four days." Agent Hotchner says as he walks quickly into his office where you're waiting for him. Little does he know that you considered it.

But you quickly dismissed it.

Because although you deserve this, you are not desperate.

And, admitting that you _hate_ politics, and that you deserve this, and earned it on your own, it makes you vulnerable.

And you _hate _being vulnerable.

You hadn't expected to be vulnerable, because that makes you weak.

And you were planning on hiding everything that made you weak.

But you're standing here late at night, in the middle of the office of a man who does not seem to like you, trying to convince him that you belong here. That this is what you were meant to do.

And all you ask him for is the chance to prove it.

It's the look in his eye that betrays the coldness of his words. The slight glimmer that you've pushed him just far enough for him to give into you.

And you're not going to screw this up.

* * *

You have a desk, and you're ready now.

This, however, is not exactly how you pictured it.

You were elated to be working with Jason Gideon, _the Jason Gideon._

But the veiled suspicions in his eyes make you doubt yourself.

But you can't let them see that.

So, you do the one thing that you know will make it all better.

You do the job.

Because if you do the job well enough, it doesn't matter if they like you.

So as you can tell Agents Gideon and Hotchner are talking about you, you carefully show them that you have your ready bag.

Because you _are_ going to be good at this job.

You get your first chance to prove it when you get to listen in on Jind-allah's interview with Gideon and can tell him that the man's from Egypt.

You want to burst with pride.

But you hide behind your mask of control.

Because if they see you're proud of yourself, it makes you look weak.

And you're still worried about being weak.

* * *

Prostitutes.

You feel horrible for them, but the sad truth is that they wouldn't have a job if people weren't paying for them.

Normally you wouldn't care, but right now there's a fourteen year old kid that you think has been slaughtering girls on the street.

And you can't help but feel like you may have become like them.

If things in your life had been different.

But they weren't different, and you're in the FBI.

Hiding from the truth that you are more like them than you want to admit.

And that last girl wasn't even 18.

But when Hotch tries to push you about Councilwoman Andrews, you snap.

Because you've been pushed too far too many times to let someone get away with it.

And you try to keep the veiled secrecy so that you don't spill everything to him at once.

Because a girl's got to have her secrets.

But politics _does_ make people distrustful.

It _does_ tear families apart.

And you're not willing to let him think that you've got some agenda.

Because there's a job to do, and women are dying, and you are better than that.

Even if you are good at hiding.

* * *

You want to believe that Derek Morgan isn't capable of this.

Because the man is attractive.

And even though you could dismiss it and say that he's just a coworker, he's starting to become more than that.

He's starting to become your friend.

And it scares you.

But, you find yourself adamantly denying that he's the killer to his family, quickly clarifying Reid's statement as the kid shoves cake in his mouth.

Sometimes you wonder if the kid is addicted to sugar.

But that's not important now, what's important is finding Carl Buford and clearing Derek Morgan's name.

Because Derek Morgan could very well become your friend.

* * *

JJ was the first person to accept you.

Other than Garcia.

But JJ was the first person _on the team_ to accept you.

And even though you're still looking for a derranged psychotic, you can't help but feel sorry for the blonde in the bathroom.

Because even though there's this rule on inter-team profiling, you know that everybody does it.

And JJ, well JJ's not good at compartmentalizing.

And you're a professional.

So when you walk up to the bathroom, it's just to offer some support.

Because everyone else is ignoring her.

And _damn_ you hate being ignored, so you can only imagine how she feels.

But when she nearly pulls her gun on you, you realize for the first time that this might be a bad idea. That JJ could be dealing with PTSD and maybe being ignored is just what she wanted.

But there's nothing you can do about it now.

So when she asks you how you deal with all the blood and horror you see on the job, you pause for a moment.

Because, really, how can you explain?

"I'm good at compartmentalizing" You say after Hotch repeats the question, pushing you for a response.

But you know it's a lie.

Because really, all you're good at is hiding.

And you can see the disappointment in JJ's eyes, and it's almost enough to get you to ignore the blood on her shirt.

She was wishing that you'd give her some great formula for keeping the demons that you see on the job out of your mind.

To hell if you know.

But, you see that JJ is not one who hides, that even this strategy of _compartmentalization_is not something that JJ could handle.

Because JJ is active.

JJ would be more likely to get out there and kick the problem in the shins than to hide from it.

Even if she was almost mauled by vicious dogs.

So you offer her the one thing you know she needs.

An opportunity to run away.

Just for a little bit.

"I'm going to...." You realize that it doesn't matter where you're going, because JJ just needs to get out of this house. She needs to feel like she's doing _something_ to help Reid. "Why don't you come along, get out of the house for a while?", you suggest, knowing that she's going to take up the offer.

Because JJ is not one to hide.

* * *

You almost do it. You almost manage to hide it all again.

But then you had to open your stupid mouth.

And reflecting on the date gone wrong, you can't help but wonder if you went on dates and allowed the guy to think you were mute, the date would go better.

Maybe then you would get a serious relationship.

You almost don't even hear Morgan come up behind you, because you can't help but think that the underlying factor in all of your failed relationships is _you,_ that it barely registers that he's talking to you. And it's his disarming charm that almost breaks down your walls.

Almost.

Because, girl, you've got walls.

And you lamely offer the excuse that you're not comfortable because you still don't know them very well yet.

Because you're used to being the new girl, and opening up too quickly--that gets you hurt.

But it's something in the way that they all interact--and watching a member of the team that had opened up to you so quickly be tortured--maybe that's the reason why you can't help the words that spew out of your mouth. "It's just...I'm a nerd."

Shocked at your own admission, you're somewhat tempted to hide behind being fascicious.

But it would be a lie.

And you hate liars.

And when _Derek Morgan_ quotes Kurt Vonnegut, you think you've died and gone to heaven.

Because maybe Derek Morgan isn't just the football quarterback that tackles everything he sees.

Maybe he's a little bit of a nerd too.

* * *

You are sure that none of them see it.

And it infuriates you.

Because you are almost _certain_that Spencer Reid has a drug problem, and you are in the midst of some of the greatest profilers in the world.

And none of them see it.

But you feel awkward bringing it up, because you're just not sure it's your place yet.

So when does it become your place? When he's shooting up at work? When he's so high that he can barely walk straight when you go to interview a witness?

You hope it doesn't get that far.

When he callously mentions to the director of the homeless shelter that their murdering homeless man could be in their midst, you see the terror in the woman's eyes.

And suddenly, it just became your place to make it your business.

Because you can't go around making people afraid.

Making them want to hide.

Because you know what that's like.

And you're done watching Spencer Reid destroy his life.

If someone's going to be honest with him, it's going to be you.

And you try to be gentle, you try to gently ask him what's wrong. Just to let him know that you care.

But he still needs to know that he was out of line.

Because you're not sure that he's gripped strongly to reality right now.

When he yells at you, and tells you that you have no idea what you're talking about, your walls momentarily crumble.

Because he's right.

But there was a time when he was nice to you, when he accepted you.

And you're not letting this go without a fight.

* * *

As you see Morgan interact with the homeless woman, you can't help but smile.

Because he's been like this with _every single one._

And the observation slips easily out of your mouth.

"You're a good guy."

It surprises you almost as much as it surprise him.

Because you don't normally offer those type of observations.

You're not sure why, but it feels too personal. And you've always been taught to have a nice sheild of detachment.

Only now, you can't seem to break down the walls if you tried.

And when you try to explain the observation, it sounds foolish in your ears, "yeah, you make people around you feel good."

But it's true.

Because no matter what Derek Morgan puts his mind to, he shoves himself into it with all he has.

And even though he doesn't _have_ to be nice to the homeless women, he is.

Because he's a good person.

And you can't help but admire that.

But you make sure to keep your admiration hidden, because you'd hate for all of the praise to go to his head.

* * *

If you learned compartmentalization from anyone, it's from your mother.

Actually, it's probably more like an inherited trait.

So when she admits to you that she doesn't feel important, there is no way that you are prepared to hide the shock.

Because right there, you come to the shocking realization that your mother is human.

And if this revelation had come yesterday, you would have called yourself crazy.

But now you wonder how you didn't see it before.

Everyone has something to hide.

And you wonder why she always had to hide her humanity.

Because you like this side of her.

* * *

It feels good to be able to hang out with Garcia and JJ.

You feel like you belong.

And as you go to get drinks from the bartender, a fairly attractive guy approaches you.

_Figures. _

_This only happens on girls' night._

Why men can't be interested in you when you're alone is anybody's guess, but you really don't feel like being picked up on tonight.

Because if there's anything you hate more than liars, it's players.

And this guy's a player.

So you try to politely decline, but the next words that come out of his mouth are too good for you to pass up.

"I work for the FBI."

And you know, you _know_ that you can't let this go.

Because it's just too perfect.

He's a liar and a player.

So you play the part of the star-struck bimbo and you tell him your friends are waiting.

And he pays for your drinks, you note with satisfaction.

So you lead him back to Garcia and JJ.

It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

And you love how quickly they pick up on the game.

Because they've been in the FBI a while too, and have run into this before.

So have you.

And there's only a _little_ bit of hiding as you pretend that you are in awe of the FBI.

But when the big reveal happens and little Brad runs away looking like he's going to wet his pants, you don't bother to hide the satisfaction.

Because you hate liars.

And you laugh and joke with Garcia but it's JJ's call that abruptly ends your night.

And driving into Quantico's gates, you realize that you _are_ in awe of the FBI.

And you hide it, because you work here every day, and that would be weird.

But the case, seeing the brother's out there _murdering _people, you find yourself disgusted.

And when Bobbi Baird asks you how they could do something like this, you do the only thing you can think of.

You lie.

You say "I don't know," when really, you know _exactly_ why they did it.

Because you're good at the job.

And it scares you.

* * *

You sit there in shock.

Because there is no way in _hell_ this is happening.

But as you sit there, expecting an official reprimand for knowing that Hotch was hiding Gideon, she offers you the job.

_Aaron Hotchner's job._

And you can't believe it.

Not because you don't want it, but because you'd be an idiot not to.

You thought that you had earned this job.

Instead, Erin Strauss put you here because she thought she could manipulate you.

That you would work your way up the political ladder exactly like your parents would have.

And it makes you sad to realize that you were just a pawn that she was trying to use in her big political game.

But you aren't your parents.

And so, you do the thing that comes naturally to you.

You hide.

At first you tell her that you'd have to think about it.

Even though you already know what you're going to do.

Because like Section Chief Strauss just said, you have a reputation for being reckless.

So it'd be kind of pointless to prove she was right and shove the job in her face.

Even though you want to.

So you decide you'll wait until Hotch takes command of the team again.

Because as much as you love this job, these people have become friends to you.

And you don't betray a friend's trust.

Ever.

So hiding will be easier.

And you can use your parents connections to continue to work for the government.

And now you think you're going to be sick.

* * *

You've always been at this game of hide and seek.

Except for no one before has come looking for you.

Because you're a hider. You suspect everyone is.

But when Hotch shows up at your doorstep, you look at him in surprise.

Because you're still fairly certain that he doesn't trust you.

And if he thinks that for even a moment you considered Strauss's offer to get his job, then there will be hell to pay.

Damn it.

But it surprises you when he pushes you to come back--damn he's pushy--and says. "I think Strauss came to you and asked for dirt on me." He says bluntly, as though knowing that you don't like to be pushed.

"Why would she do that?" You ask, neither confirming nor denying what he said. A true politicians daughter.

_Mother would be so proud,_ you think in derision.

"I think you have your eyes on top leadership of the FBI, you might need to know who stands in your way."

You're still careful, because if he suspects this much, maybe he thinks that you told her something. Something to ruin the unit.

But you wouldn't do that.

Because you're Emily Prentiss, and you hate politics, and you hate liars, and you wish that they would all just go to hell.

"And what could I have told her?" You finally ask, trying to carefully mask your question.

"That one of my agents might have murdered a suspect in cold blood. Or another might have a serious drug problem, which I didn't report." He says, and you're shocked that he's admitted it.

Because even when Reid was flying as high as a kite, you thought that he just didn't see it.

Now you see he overlooked it, and you gain a new respect for Aaron Hotchner.

But you're still terrified that he thinks of you as a traitor.

Because you hate traitors.

And you would never sell out your team.

"And if Strauss had any evidence, my career would be over. I think she put you on our team and expected something in return, and to your credit you quit rather than whisper in her ear." He says, and there is no mistaking the pride in his eyes.

And for some reason, it feels good to have him be proud of you, to recognize that you wouldn't betray the team like that.

"I told you, I hate politics." Again, you neither confirm nor deny his conclusion.

Because even this small amount of praise is enough, and you have never been one who is exceptionally good at receiving praise.

Maybe because growing up, it was seldom offered.

"Come to Milwaukee."He pushes.

And you pause, because you really don't have a good reason not to go with him.

"I'll make you a deal. If your ready bag isn't here, packed, I won't bug you any more. If it is I want you on that plane with me. One more case." He's almost begging, and you sigh.

Because your ready bag _is _here and it _is _packed.

Because this job, you're not sure you could ever just leave it behind.

"I already turned in my badge and gun." It's not a refusal, you just want him to know where you stand. You want him to ask you one more time.

To be sure that you belong.

"That's just hardware." He dismisses.

And you know that it won't be one more case.

And you're glad to have something to hide behind.

Because you love this job.

* * *

You know it's ridiculous.

But something about Carrie reminds you of what your child would look like.

And even though the abortion was for the best--you _were_ only 15--you still regret it.

Because that may have been your one chance at having a child.

And even though you've never said it aloud, you always thought that the baby would have been a girl.

And she would have had dark hair, and dark eyes--just like Carrie.

Maybe that's what haunts you.

Regardless, there's no hiding anymore.

Because you have to act.

And you have to make sure you're still human.

* * *

When you see Susan Jacobs comforting Katie's mother, your heart swells slightly.

Maybe this is what it would be like to have a normal family.

But in your family, it would be full of secrets.

You've never been able to tell when other people are hiding something.

Maybe its because you get so caught up in hiding your own baggage, that you usually miss people hiding their own.

You just assume everyone is hiding something.

And you're usually right.

But something about Susan Jacobs seems off.

The whole situation seems off.

But you're trying to find a little girl.

When you suddenly make the connection that Susan lied to you, that she worked in this mall, that she _kidnapped_ her niece,

You think you're going to be sick.

Because the realization that no families have a perfect relationship,

that everyone _does_ have something to hide,

You think it's going to make you sick.

* * *

As you walk into the cold hospital, you can't help but feel like this is happening _again._

The first times, with JJ and Reid, you didn't know them as well.

You were barely friends.

So while it was traumatizing, it was easy to hide the fear.

With Garcia?

The fear is just too big to hide.

And when you see JJ silently sitting in the waiting room, you can't help but think that something is seriously wrong.

Because JJ has never been one to just sit.

And you _know_ how close the other two are,

but you just don't know what to do.

So you do the only thing you can.

You let JJ know you're there.

Because you're not so sure that JJ even knows you're here.

And you _desparately_ want to do the right thing.

* * *

You stare out the window on the plane, desperately trying to reason with yourself. You could never become like _them._

Right?

You aren't entirely sure, because not very long ago, Johnny McCale was as normal and lucid as you are.

And then he brutally murdered several people.

You could never become like that.

Right?

When Rossi asks you what's going on, it almost surprises you.

Because you forgot that there were even other people on the plane.

"He's the first unsub I've worked that wasn't a bad guy. A few months ago, Johnny McCale was just a regular person." You say, trying to hide your vulnerability, but wanting to convey exactly what terrible thoughts are going through your mind.

"Every unsub is ill on some level most can't help what they do anymore than Johnny could." He responds, and you can't help but feel surprise. Months ago, he would have told you something different. But you can also see the standard response from him is just to try to get you to open up a little more. As though he's trying to protect you from the vicious thoughts in your mind.

"But he went from successful artist and writer to brutal killer in six months." Your rebuttal feels more like an admission. Your fear just lying underneath the surface.

"He suffered an unbelievable tragedy." He states, and for a moment, you think the conversation is done.

And his answer does more to terrify you, than to comfort you.

Because how bad do things have to get before _you_ have suffered an unbelievable tragedy enough to murder someone.

To cut them and kill them the way you found Glenn Park.

You realize it's been a moment since you responded, so you effectively end the conversation.

"I know. I get it." You say, hoping that the conversation is over and that you can wallow in your own self-doubt.

But Rossi isn't one to let people off the hook easily.

"So what's bugging you?" He asks, trying to get down to the meat of your fears.

You debate for a moment of whether or not you should tell him. Because you hate being vulnerable, but you really need a resolution to this thought, or you might not be sleeping for the next five years.

"It just makes me wonder, are we all capable of becoming something like that?" You say, deciding that it's better to be vulnerable than to be continually questioning yourself.

He pauses for a brief second before responding, "Life is a hell of a thing to happen to a person."

And you smile, because it helps you realize something.

That there is a line, and if anyone's been through enough to push them over the edge,

It's you.

And he's right.

Life _is_ a hell of a thing to happen to a person.

But you haven't gone Delusional Psychotic Killer yet.

So, you're going to be okay.

Right?

* * *

You can't let him go through that again, but you want to give him the chance to be the hero.

Because if almost two years on this team has taught you anything, it's that Spencer Reid wants to be the hero.

But you're not sure you can live with yourself if you let him subject himself to _another _religious zealot.

And, Reid would be better at getting close to Cyrus than you would.

Because you're a woman.

And you don't think that Cyrus fully trusts women.

Damn you, male chauvinists.

Really, it's only been a fraction of a second since Cyrus asked which one of you was the FBI agent.

And now that you look at Reid, you can see that he's going to try to be the hero.

And you're _sure_ that you can't let him do that again.

So you say the only words you can.

"It's me."

They take you, and you know they are going beat you.

But you're tough.

Because _you_ are Emily Prentiss.

And you know that the team can hear you.

But you also know that if they come in now, there are going to be a lot of people that lose their lives today.

Some of them might be children.

And even as you get thrown against the wall, the irrational thought takes precedence.

That you have too much innocent blood on your hands.

That one child too many has died at your hands.

So you hide the pain, and act as though you're taunting Cyrus. But really, you're talking to your team.

You know that Cyrus will think you're goading him, and that this will probably end up hurting a lot.

But you're hoping that the team will get the message.

Hoping that Rossi won't try to protect you.

That Hotch won't push everyone away so that you're okay.

That Morgan won't tackle anyone who gets in his way.

So you say the only thing that you can, praying they'll get the message.

"I can take it."

Because one child too many has died because of you.

"I can take it."

You state it one more time.

"I can take it."

Because you can.

* * *

Interviewing potential suspects has never been your favorite thing to do.

But as _Viper_ tells you in vague ambiguous terms that he could wrap you around his little finger, you want to punch him in the face.

Because as much as you hate liars, and players,

You _loathe _male chauvinists.

And when the entire team turns on you, and throws you to the wolves, you want to go on one of your patented feminist rants.

But damn it, you don't have time--there's a killer to catch.

When you're changing and Hotch checks on you, to make sure you're okay with the undercover op, you can't help but think it's sweet.

Chauvinistic, but sweet.

And you think, not for the first time, that you could be attracted to him in a parallel universe.

But he's so neurotic, that the two of you would never do well together.

Because you're so _not_ neurotic.

And he's _definitely_ not slightly geeky.

* * *

You never thought you'd see John Cooley ever again, but here he is, waiting for you.

And as you exchange casual hellos, you can't help but notice that he definitely aged well.

Really well.

Too bad that you learned almost twenty three years ago that he already proved how he felt about you.

Which is why while part of you is genuinely glad to see him...

The other part of you wants to run him over with your Prius...twice.

But you try to banish those thoughts from your mind, even though you remember the last time you spoke to him.

It was the night before you lost all of your--well, what was left of your innocence.

It was the night that your hands were stained with blood,

but you can't think of this now. Because it doesn't matter anymore.

You've grown up.

You're putting away bad guys and trying to save those you can, that has to do something for the scale of sin and redemption.

By no means are you expecting to go to heaven but a less painful purgatory would be nice.

When he tells you that Matthew is dead, it suddenly doesn't matter anymore.

Because Matthew is--was--a good person, and you can't help but think that you brought this all on him.

Because if he hadn't have helped you, he would still have his faith.

And then he might still be alive.

And you push Hotch to help you.

You deserve his loyalty more than anyone.

But it still surprises you when he defends you and stands up for you.

Because you're not used to people living up to your expectations.

And you try to hide your surprise at his support.

Because it means a lot.

* * *

It shouldn't have happened like this, you shouldn't be sitting here talking comfortably with him.

Because you're geeky, and you thought your chances at happiness were over.

But somehow, he broke down your walls and even though you tried to run and hide,

He kept finding you.

And you find yourself liking who you've become when you're around him.

Because he can talk about all of the geeky stuff that interests you,

but when he takes off his shirt, you can't help but feel your temperature rise.

And you just might believe that not everyone has something to hide.

* * *

_"There can be no good without evil."_

_-Russian Proverb_


End file.
